


Because it's easier to deal with aliens than demons

by Marro



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: And Gil, And a regular mess, Anxiety, Childhood Trauma, Don't Ask, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, I Don't Even Know, Learning communication, M/M, Not Beta Read, Opossum sass, POV Ryder, Reyes is the most supportive person, Ryder is a hot mess, Ryder is a queen, SAM is a pal, Smut, So is Vetra, Sort Of, Such nice people, Who needs condoms when there's AI, Working with insecurities, Yass kween, and pizza, hot stuff, so much cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:21:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26251819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marro/pseuds/Marro
Summary: It's one thing to appear all confident and unwavering on posters and in news reports, but it's a whole other ordeal trying not to break under the weight of crippling anxiety when the guy you like figures out why you don't want to sleep with him, especially when that reason isyouand yourcrappy self-esteem.Presenting, a 4 chapter long 2 chapter story about Andrew Ryder being a panicky weirdo and how Reyes Vidal somehow has the patience to deal with him and his amazingly ugly clothes.
Relationships: Male Ryder/Reyes Vidal, Ryder/Reyes Vidal
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	1. Don't you give up on me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently in the middle of composing a long-ass origin story for my main lovelies in the ESO universe and needed a break to create some wholesomeness (and sexy times) and unleash my wonky brain. Also, it's a pandemic, fluff is needed in these times.
> 
> I honestly thought that I'd be able to pull through with 'creating a short fic' this time, and here I am, having to break it into 2 chapters because I'm suddenly ~~7423~~ 14494 words in, _and it's ~~not done yet~~._ done!
> 
> So grab a snack and get comfy.
> 
> The first chapter is mostly sweet and wholesome, and the second one will be spicier, but wholesome as well.
> 
> I do not own Mass Effect or the songs mentioned.

Everything had been great so far. Like, perfectly great.

Well, except for a few minor details, like being used as a distraction for theft, and, despite that panicked kiss, Andrew still isn't sure that the 'benefit' of drinking six hundred years old alcohol was worth the sting of disappointment when they were supposed to be on a date. Or, sort of date. Fine, he wanted it to be a date, okay?

And sure, there was that whole Charlatan business. Learning that the guy you're dating is the leader of a crime syndicate and not a simple smuggler, which might be debatable if that's any better, when said guy gets the leader of Kadara Port sniped in the back, might not be the best trust-building technique, as it did stir up a few discussions. Alright, they fought. A lot. It didn't help that Andrew had been forced to return to the Nexus in the midst of them not agreeing on how the whole situation should have been handled, that Reyes should have said _something_ despite his fear of Andrew blowing his knee-caps off and then end their whole... Whatever they are.

Many salty messages and the human Pathfinder acting like a hormonal prima donna over private comms ensured. And while some of the crew members watched the drama play out with snacks at hand, they all noticed the sudden lack of chirping and awful dad jokes.

Because, while Andrew might've removed the man's knees with a biotic explosion, learning about it at any other time than in that damn cave wouldn't have stung as bad as all the lies. And when Reyes pointed out that he _technically_ hadn't been lying and _simply_ kept the information from him, Andrew high-fived him in the face with a table.

Alright, so maybe not everything had been perfect. But many things were; late-night whiskey-and-charcuterie board-picnics on the rooftops, because of course Reyes managed to get hold of that sort of luxury on the middle of a God-forsaken desert planet, browsing illicit implants and weaponry at the market, Reyes trying to be supportive during Andrew's insomnia by staying up talking to him over the radio but always falling asleep and feeling bad about it later, teaming up against Umi at Kralla's Song to make her throw up by being disgustingly cute with each other. Because it's not like everyone didn't already know they are a... _Thing_ , or something.

Also, let's not forget about the compliments. Damn, Reyes' got a way of making Andrew feel like a spoiled princess, telling him how pretty his eyes are in the neon light, how the gazillion freckles on his face make him look adorable - lies, all of it - and how beautiful his smile is.

They had spent a lot of time together before this whole Charlatan business came crashing down like a blazing meteor that left a crater in Andrew's heart and ripped a tear in the formerly solid sheet of trust. Dealing with it took a long time, like, weeks of Andrew and his crew running errands for the Nexus and spending far too much time taking turns trying to break records of keeping the Nomad airborne on H-047c. Andrew refused to admit a wounded ego when Vetra won.

Despite the hurt and arguing and Andrew's wine-drunk pity-nights in his cabin that Vetra and Gil somehow had the patience to sit through, the idiotic smuggler was sorely missed, so they both made a great effort of working it out the next time Andrew returned to Kadara. He blamed the visit on "having to make sure that the new outpost is doing alright," but everyone knew why he wanted to go back. Well, Jaal was still working on learning about human's not being very good at being in contact with their feelings and speaking honestly about them. Or, well, Andrew isn't.

No matter what, after 'sneaking' off the Tempest, which was only successful because everyone knew where he was going and Cora followed him from a distance to make sure he wasn't shot in the back on his way to the slums, Andrew met a regretful and pained man in Tartarus who swore he'd make it up to him. That no matter what, even crossing galaxies if needed, he'd pour all his time and energy into making up for the pain he brought by lying, which he still _technically_ hadn't done, but he'd make up for it all the same. When he wasn't busy ruling his kingdom of sand, that is.

Andrew let him, and during the two weeks he remained on Kadara, the mood between them lightened as they began patching their relationship back together. Whatever Andrew asked, Reyes answered to the best of his ability, keeping workplace secrets to himself, though, which Andrew didn't try to pry on. Andrew himself practiced speaking up about how hurt he'd been, why he'd been hurt, and what he needed if they were going to stick together. Then, things were back to normal. Better than normal, even.

They were laughing, chatting, spent hours making up their own constellations when Andrew couldn't sleep, arguing over which pistol was the best or which bubble gum flavor was the tastiest, or discussed home interior and which planet would be most comforting to live on. Andrew quickly decided that Reyes wouldn't be allowed to decorate anything after stating that 'metallic paneling could make for a nice back wall' like, sure, if you're planning on murdering someone in your home, and continued by wanting to overload his implant after indirectly suggesting that they'd move in together. At least Reyes was amused, and SAM refused to take part in short-circuiting the Pathfinder's brain. Again.

This day went on similar to the others; Andrew spends it and most of the afternoon out in the scorching hot sun in the valleys surrounding Kadara Port trying to clear out the never-ending supply of practice dummies, like Ketts, and stops by Ditaeon to ensure that said aliens haven't damaged the outpost or harmed its inhabitants.

Once done in the evening, they return to the Tempest, and Andrew cleans all the dust and sand from _places_ , before changing into a worn, long-sleeved white shirt with a colorful print of an opossum sitting in a trash can, wearing a tiara, with a line of text reading 'Trash eat'n Sass'. It's one of the items he brought with him from Earth, and proudly so, as finding any sort of fun printed piece of clothing on the Nexus would be equal to stumbling over a planet made of solid gold with glitter dust for oxygen. 

Miracles can happen, so maybe one day he'll find a t-shirt with a more exciting print than 'Proud Initiate'. However, he'll probably find that goldy planet first.

Along with the glorious shirt, he pulls on a pair of thick white sweatpants, sporting the less glorious Initiative logo, and a coral blue hoodie. He easily hides his Carniflex underneath the bulky clothes and runs a bit of wax through his messy blond hair, turning it to a more controlled spikey quiff, because he wants to feel pretty, because he's off to a leisurely dinner date with the King of Kadara, now that he's finally got an entire evening off.

It's not that they haven't eaten together before, they have, like, a hundred times, or so it feels like, and Andrew very much enjoys leaving the ship in something other than his sweat-oozing armor, which still smells odd despite the self-disinfection system. And while activewear isn't the most classy type of clothes, because why the hell would he bring a dinner suit aboard the Tempest, that doesn't mean he wants his hair to look like a cat had groomed it.

"I can't believe you're still seeing that deceiving dip-shit," Peebee comments when Andrew passes her and Jaal in the kitchen alcove, where the two shares a plate of shortbread cookies and candy-coated peanuts. Jaal looks up from his dissection of a peanut, confused, and Peebee doesn't care to take her eyes off the square cookie she's inspecting close to her face. "Especially after that whole Charlatan-thing, I mean; personally, I would've blasted his face off. Guy's not worth dirt in my book."

"I never took you for a fiction writer."

"Never took you for an idiot. Oh, wait, nevermind."

Andrew rolls his eyes and backs up to the table. "Good thing I don't care about your preferred literature, then." He smirks and uses his biotics to snatch the cookie out of her hand, which immediately causes a sputtering rigmarole of threats and swear-words. It dies off just as fast when Jaal hands her a new cookie that she clutches close to her body, the poor Angaran looking lost to the conversation. "Also, we've talked a lot, and I do believe that he'll do better from now on," he says earnestly. "I'm willing to give him a chance to prove himself. Communication is key, you know." He takes a bite of the dry cookie and blows a few crumbs through his lips as he adds, "You should try it sometime."

"Are you implying that there is another way of communicating than what we are acting out right now?" Jaal inquires, and Andrew fights to swallow the gritty texture. Did he actually think this one would be pleasant to eat when all the ones before tasted like sugary concrete? "I did not know that humans have other means of speaking to each other."

"I'm sure Peebee will tell you all about it!" Andrew assures, and the Asari glares at his bright grin, even more so when he backs off with a two-finger salute, leaving her to do the explanation to her innocent Angaran partner.

The short trip to the slums is pleasantly uneventful, thanks Cora, and soon, he's spamming the button on the door to the Charlatan's private space, because he knows Reyes hates it when he does, and greets the man with a dazzling, toothy smile that instantly drains the annoyed expression off his face once he opens.

"You know I don't appreciate it when you abuse the bell," he reprimands after stepping aside to let Andrew enter, though there isn't any bite to his words. "You'll break it one of these days."

"Mh, what a tragedy," Andrew sighs dramatically and lands a hand to his forehead, coming to a stop a few steps inside the vast room. "I can see the headlines already; 'The Ruler of Kadara, a victim of cruelty, as been separated from his one and only doorbell! Foul play is at hand' -... No, that makes it sound like I stole it. Maybe something more like -"

" _Dios mío_ , Andrew, this must be why they sent you away from Earth," Reyes sighs and sticks his hands to his hips, an amused smile playing on his lips. Mh, he loves it when Reyes butchers his name with that accent. "I am sure they got sick of your lack of seriousness quickly enough."

"Nonsense! I'm nothing but likable!"

Reyes makes that face where he pops an eyebrow and pulls his lips into a thin line like he doesn't believe a word. Andrew bats his eyelashes at the barely shorter man and gets blessed with a light-hearted chuckle. "Insufferable," he claims, rude, but still wraps his arms around Andrew's waist when the blond closes in and slides his hands to the man's shoulders, grinning as he meets those hooded amber eyes.

"What if I actually did though?"

"Did what?"

"Stole your buzzer! Or others'! What if that was some strange kink of mine?"

As if it wasn't enough of a struggle for Reyes to deal with Andrew's horrible and sudden blood-sugar-dip-'if I hear you take another breath I'll rip your larynx out'-mood, he also had to try and keep up with whatever fucked up imagery happened inside the blond's brain.

"That wouldn't be very... Kind? Or healthy?" Reyes replies, eyebrows knitted together in both disapproval and that concerned 'what-is-wrong-with-you' expression.

"It would make a nice addition to my title, though; 'Doorbell snatcher' Ryder, Human Pathfinder and Professional Buzzer Embezzler.'" He waves his hand through the air. "I'll even be able to set up my own stall! Though, of course, I'll be selling second-hand military weaponry upfront and keep the buzzers below the counter."

"... Ah, I see, so that's what you will do once you retire as Pathfinder?"

"Yup! I've got it all figured out!" Andrew grins and feels his heart skip a beat when Reyes gifts him a private smile, one of those big ones that make his eyes wrinkle. "You're free to join as my partner, of course, I'll need someone to help spread the word of my exquisite collection."

"... Of door buzzers?"

"Of door buzzers."

Reyes breaks out laughing at that while Andrew fights to appear shocked by his reaction, though it only holds for so long before he cracks up as well. It's one of the best things, hearing Reyes warm, hearty laugh. It magically melts the tension away like snowballs on Elaaden. "You are a true treasure, Andrew Ryder," he manages after regaining his breath, and the Pathfinder breaks eye-contact as his pale, freckled cheeks turn pink. "I am grateful to have you in my life, still."

"Of course you are, I'm amazing," Andrew states, though he can tell without looking that Reyes notices his embarrassment, and he clears his throat. "So, um, how was your day?"

"Good. Better now," the smuggler replies, voice lowering to a mumble. "It's always better with you here." When Andrew dares meet that beautiful gaze, a pair of dry lips meets his own, and his eyelids flutter close as a wave of pleasant tingles rushes through his body. The kiss is tender, controlled, like Reyes knows that it will be accepted and returned, and it's nothing like the first one in that storage room. It had been hasty, a lot of teeth, noses crashing, and they both looked shocked afterward, then awkwardly moved on as if nothing happened.

Just like every time, the sensation somehow takes over Andrew's mind and erases everything that doesn't matter, like everything that isn't Reyes. No Archon, no Arks, no Nexus. For that moment, his head is pleasantly quiet. He returns the kiss, sighs into it when he's pulled closer, soft hands coming up to cup his clean-shaven face. Andrew remembers those hands being rough when they first met. Cuticles dry and flaky, nails dirty and uneven, how the calluses in his palms used to scratch against his skin, built up during a lifetime of work. Now that Reyes has become King, there's no need for heavy lifting.

He angles his head to come closer, fingers brushing against Reyes' neck, hums when he's kissed again, and again, each particle of stress leaving him like dandelion seeds in a storm, and the empty space's replaced with content, affection, calm. Maybe something more, but they haven't talked about that, so he doesn't feel into it.

"Our food is going to be cold," Reyes reminds between three pecks and chuckles at Andrew's reluctance to let go. "How about we continue this after dinner?"

"Unless it's pizza, I can eat it cold," Andrew mumbles against those marvelous lips and continues to kiss them, stopping when he doesn't get any in return. He pulls his head back enough to look up and see Reyes' smirk, and gawks. "... Hold the fuck on, did you get us _pizza_?"

"It was going to be a surprise."

Before Reyes gets the chance to finish the sentence, Andrew has already pulled away and stumbles across the room as he kicks his sneakers off mid-sprint, heading towards the next room with one sock clinging on for dear life around the bridge of his foot. The door swishes open and he catches himself on the doorframe leading to the Charlatan's more _private_ private area and comes to a full stop. It's actually pizza, like, the real thing, and now he can _smell it_ ; melted cheese, baked dough, oregano. It's four of them, lined up next to each other on the low table in a beautiful display of colors and textures, black-spotted crust, and various toppings.

Liam is going to kill Andrew once he tells him, and sadly, there won't be any left to bring back to the Tempest. Because, even if Andrew didn't eat as much as he did, he's not leaving a _single crumb of crust_.

Feeling Reyes' presence closing in, Andrew's jaw clicks shut. "How _the fuck_ did you get hold of this? Did someone bring a pizza oven from Earth that you tracked down, then kidnapped a chef? Or did you force someone to build one? Or is one of your spies secretly holding cooking classes in one of the valley's?"

"Yes," Reyes replies simply, and Andrew knows he'll never learn what tricks this man can pull from his sleeves to get what he wants. "Come on, before you drown."

Andrew slurps up the drool escaping the corner of his mouth and throws himself down onto the shiny, black leather couch, excitedly clapping his hands as he's closely studying each magnificent masterpiece. "Damn, Rey, you sure know how to spoil a lady. Did you go to Charm School before becoming a pilot?"

"Hah, no, I did not, I was born with this specific set of skills to accompany my handsome features."

If Andrew hadn't been too busy taking photos of the food, he'd laugh, but it's not like he'd argue. Reyes happens to be ridiculously good looking, like an unfair amount of good looking, but his ego is big enough to fit both of them, so Andrew doesn't feel the need to enlarge it further.

They dine to alternate tunes, chatting and laughing, mostly it's Reyes laughing at Andrew's child-like enthusiasm over having pizza for the first time in over six hundred years, shared over a couple of beers. Andrew takes his time experiencing everything, savoring each molecule touching his taste buds, the textures, moaning wantonly at the sensation of crispy bacon and sweaty cheese to the point that Reyes looks outright jealous.

"Fucking hell, that was the best damn thing I've ever eaten," the Pathfinder sighs as he falls back against the plain throw pillows after picking up and eating the last crumbs from the plates with a wet finger. He downs another few gulps of beer. "I don't know how you pulled this one off, but, damn, you did it good. Thanks."

"You're welcome," Reyes smiles, him too leaning back to easier handle his grease-bloated stomach. "Though, watching your reaction was a better experience than the food itself."

"Always here to entertain."

It takes about forty minutes until the gluten and cheese stop hurting and Andrew can finally breathe properly, but it's worth it, and the upcoming stomach-ache will be worth it as well. They talk about Andrew's day out in the wild, how Kadara really would benefit from an oasis-themed waterpark and how that should be Reyes' top priority, about how Andrew really shouldn't try and get a pet on board the Tempest, even though he really misses having one, because spaceships aren't a suitable environment for animals, and how he did the right thing giving the little squeaky hamster-thing to a family on Eos.

"But I miss having someone to fall asleep with!" Andrew complains around the rim of his bottle. "We had three cats back on Earth, you know? I always had at least one of them laying on my face or pushing me out of bed. Do you have any idea how much space a cat can take? They can expand to like, four times their normal size! ... God, I miss those cats."

"Well." Reyes puts his bottle away, then raises his arm to rest it behind Andrew's head on top of the fluffy back pillow. "I understand that they left an empty space with you, still, I don't think that you should have animals on the Tempest, and no, no matter what you say, I won't try and get you one, so you can stop it with those puppy eyes already -"

"Spoilsport," Andrew mutters and leans over, landing with his head on Reyes' chest, groaning as the content in his stomach moves.

"- though, for what it's worth, I'm always here to try and fill that emptiness during the night, if that's something you want."

Andrew opens his mouth only to close it again when nothing but an exhale comes out. Right. _Right_. They hadn't slept together, like, proper sleeping. They hadn't done the other type of sleeping together either, at least not all the way. There had been some dry humping while making out, and Andrew got inside Reyes' pants at one time, which had been amazing, but that's it. Whenever Reyes tried to snake a hand underneath Ryder's clothes, he managed to distract him by lying that he's too cold or wrestle him down on the bed.

Not that there had been any complaints, because of course, Reyes had been, and still is, patient and respectful when Andrew hadn't jumped the gun the moment they got a bit touchy, then proceeded to awkwardly explain that he wasn't up for 'proper' sex yet. And it wasn't like Andrew didn't want to get all naked and up in there, he very much did, but there's a, ah, small problem. Or, well, it's him, _he_ is the problem.

That arm slides off the pillow, and Andrew shifts a little to let Reyes wrap it around his shoulder instead. "But there's no need to rush anything," he adds, and Andrew can't help but feel guilty. "Simply having you here now is more than enough. I just want you to know that you are always welcome to stay."

Hell, Andrew wants to. It wouldn't matter if Reyes' farts poison in his sleep or snores like a pug with a cold; he'd gladly deal with anything for the chance to curl up against that hairy chest and snooze an entire day away. Sure, he's got the whole 'save-the-galaxy' mission going on, but, come on, even he deserves a lazy day, right?

"... Sounds nice," he murmurs and supports his bottle on Reyes' jeans-clad thigh. He slowly chews on the inside of his lower lip. "I just... Ugh, I don't know."

"Hey, look at me."

He tilts his head back enough to do just that, finding Reyes' face inches away from his own, a soft smile stretching his lips. "It's okay. I don't want you to agree if you're not certain. I'll still be here, okay?"

Fuck, what had Andrew done to deserve a guy like Rey? Sure, they didn't agree on everything, and there had been that whole 'Charlatan-situation' but still. This guy's nothing like the douches he used to go out with back on Earth.

It's impossible not to smile back, and Andrew stretches his neck to catch Reyes' lips with his own, changes the hand holding the beer so that he can curl it up around the man's neck. He gets a pleased hum in return, and it doesn't take many minutes before he's on his back, the Charlatan on top of him, beer forgotten on the table, limbs entangled, tongues battling for dominance while Bas van Nienes begs them not to give up on him through the speakers.

"I didn't get us any dessert," Reyes whispers hotly as he breaks free from the Pathfinder's soft lips to trail kisses along his jaw, and Andrew eagerly tilts his head to the side. "But maybe this not a problem?"

"It's, _ngh_ , n - not," Andrew stutters when Reyes finds that spot right below his ear and scrapes his teeth across the sensitive skin. "You're s - sweet enough."

He gets a muffled "thank you" that Andrew drowns out with a vocal shudder. The hands resting by Reyes' shoulders move up the man's neck, fingers digging into that thick, black hair, mussing it out of style. "O-oh, that's... Nice."

"This?"

Andrew moans as an affirmative when Reyes gently bites Andrew's neck, then doubles the meltdown by flexing and pressing his thigh down between the Pathfinder's legs, causing his breath to catch in his throat. Andrew can feel Reyes smirk and digs his fingers into his scalp, getting a deep hum back. "T-that too."

" _This?_ " And he does it again, shifts his hips enough to create some friction, and Andrew officially goes dumb. He tries to answer but only manages to choke on a groan when Reyes continues to move his leg while nipping a path down toward Andrew's collarbones, stopping when clothes hinder him. "Would it be alright for you to remove this?" Rey mumbles and tugs at the collar of the over-sized hoodie.

"S - sure."

After struggling to get some brain function back, and Reyes off of his chest, Andrew sits up and carefully pulls the hoodie over his head, making sure that his last layer doesn't slide up with it, and grins when Reyes breaks into laugher once he sees the magnificent shirt.

"I can't believe you're wearing that," the Charlatan chuckles and takes the bulky piece of clothing from Andrew to drop it on the carpet. "That shirt is horrendous."

"You're the one who thinks metallic paneling is 'cool', meaning you obviously don't know anything about culture, or design, so your opinion on fashion is insignificant," Andrew tells him, only struggling a little to find the words in the mist, then pretends to struggle when Reyes pushes him down.

A hand squeezes itself between Andrew's body and the seat cushion, traces his spine to the smalls of his back, traveling down towards -

"... Andrew?"

"Mmmmm?"

"Is this a gun?"

"Hm? Oh. Maybe I'm just happy to see you?"

"Your _tailbone_ is happy to see me? I think we need to talk if that's the case."

Andrew snickers at that and arches his back, awkwardly folds an arm underneath his body to slide the Carniflex out from the waistband of his sweatpants and fumbles until he can drop it off on the table, the heavily modified, gold-tinted weapon landing on the glass top with a _clank_. The second it's out of the way, Reyes' hand slips down to grab a handful of sculptured ass, making both of them moan.

Just like the other times they ended up like this, the idea of proceeding all the way fills what little functioning part that's left in Andrew's brain. That maybe this time it won't feel impossible, that he'd somehow become braver since last time. Damn, he wants to try, so he edges closer to the wall of fear by pulling at Reyes' dull grey shirt.

"Off," he demands with what voice he can find and feels his heart race impossibly faster when the smuggler immediately obliges. He sits back and pulls it off, then discards it as a ball of fabric to some corner of the room. Andrew gawks, and Reyes chuckles, which makes his abs tighten and protrude more, and Andrew bites his lip. Sure, he'd seen the man topless once or twice before, and it's just as breathtaking as the first time, and Andrew makes grabby hands for the man to come back already.

He does, and Andrew purrs against the smuggler's lips as he runs a hand through those soft curls on Reyes' chest, re-explores firm pecs and abs and obliques, then up those strong arms. It doesn't matter that Andrew's muscle mass is bigger; he'll still seek safety in Reyes' embrace.

Before long, the hand not supporting Reyes' weight from crashing down onto Andrew snakes down his side, strong fingers squeeze his hip and Andrew sighs into the man's mouth, shifts underneath him, wants more. But when that hand slides in underneath his shirt and makes contact with burning skin, he goes stiff, and his heart stops.

"Mi cielito?"

Ice fills Andrew's stomach. Fuck, this is not how he wants it to go. He wants to be fine, wants to want it, but he can't control the paralyzing fear clawing up along his spine that, judging by how Reyes' eyebrows furrow, is visible. He swallows.

"... Andrew?"

"Y - yeah?"

Reyes pulls away enough to get a good look at Andrew's paler than usual face and pained expression, worried eyes flicking back and forth. "Is it too much? Do you want me to stop?"

"... No," he squeaks, because he doesn't, but Reyes doesn't look like he believes him. The smuggler shows a soft, crooked smile before Andrew breaks eye-contact to inspect the wrinkles on the backrest.

"What's wrong, then?"

Yeah, what's wrong? Andrew's wrong, but he doesn't know how to vocalize that, and he feels terrible for ruining the mood. The flames in his veins die down as he tries to form words, opens and closes his mouth a few times, and tries to rehydrate his dry mouth. "It's just, I um... Shit, I, uh -"

"Does it... Have something to do with me?"

"What? No!" Andrew blurts and stares at the man, the perfect, amazing, cocky asshole hovering over him. "No, it's got nothing to do with you. It's, um..." In defeat, he exhales and turns his head to the other side, facing the table and the large projector screen on the wall. "SAM, help?"

Half a second later, the AI's blocky voice fills the space around them. _"The Pathfinder suffers severe anxiety and low self-esteem related to unprocessed childhood trauma, where he was objected to continuous harassment by fellow class members due to his skin condition. As these emotions have not yet been dealt with, the Pathfinder feels uncomfortable displaying his body to others in fear of reliving the same moments he did as a juvenile."_

"... 'Skin condition'?" Reyes repeats, and Andrew can hear the frown in his voice. "What 'condition'?"

Andrew closes his eyes when SAM proceeds to explain that _"The Pathfinder carries an allele of the MCR1 gene that has been passed down from his mother's side, named Arg151Cys, that creates clusters of melanized cells to appear on his skin, also known as ephilides, covering seventy-four percent of his body."_

A moment of silence passes until Reyes speaks again. "SAM, can you dumb it down for me?"

_"It is a variation of-"_

"It's freckles," Andrew mutters before SAM goes on another explanation-marathon. When Reyes doesn't say anything, he dares open his eyes and peers up at the man, who looks back, nonplussed.

"So, you've... Got freckles all over your body?"

"... Yeah."

"I see. And you've had a hard time because of that?"

"Something like that."

"And now... You are scared that I'll treat you the same way?"

"It's, uh, um. Hm." He offers a hesitant smile, scared that Rey might think he's ridiculous, or childish, or pathetic, because Andrew feels like all of those things right now. "... Yeah?"

"Ah. Alright, well." Reyes backs away to sit on his knees between Andrew's legs, and the Pathfinder's heart slams against his ribs as fear rises, fear of Rey moving away of disgust. He offers a smile instead. "I know that I'm not in a position to ask for your trust, but I promise you that I won't make fun of you. From what I've seen, I think your freckles are incredibly cute and pretty."

Andrew snorts at that. "Yeah, sure, on my _face_."

"And why wouldn't I think the same of any other part of your body?"

Silence falls as Andrew doesn't have a good answer to that; he just remembers being laughed at and called 'freakles' and 'dot face' and have classmates show him pictures of Chinese crested dogs asking if they are related. "Because, uh... It's nasty?"

"So, if I had a lot of freckles, would you think that I'm 'nasty'?"

"What? No?" Andrew frowns and then smiles flatly when Reyes' cocks an eyebrow with that stupid ass smirk on the corner of his mouth. "It's not the same!"

"Why not?"

Silence falls, and Andrew folds his arms over his chest and obstinately averts his gaze. Reyes carefully places his open hands onto the Pathfinder's thighs. "I swear that I will not laugh at you. I can't possibly imagine how I'd think you're anything but amazing-looking underneath that horrible shirt, freckles or not."

"Okay, first of all, this is a _majestic_ shirt," Andrew argues and jabs a finger at the royal, screeching opossum. "Secondly, that's a lie."

"It's not a - ugh, SAM?"

_"I detect no elevation in Mr. Vidal's heart rate, nor any increased activity in his limbic system. He is not telling a lie."_

"I swear I'll uninstall your anti-malware program when we get back to the Nexus."

"Andrew, I _promise_ ," Reyes repeats and slowly rubs his hands up and down over the soft cotton. "I don't want you to feel like you have to hide from my eyes because -" he cuts himself off, and the rubbing ceases. He blinks, then raises his eyebrows. "This... Is the reason you don't want to have sex with me?"

Goddamn it, did he have to be so clever? "... It's uh, well, it's not really -"

"It is, isn't it?"

Like Andrew can deny it? It's the _only_ reason. "... Yeah."

"Oh, _precioso Mío_ ," Reyes sighs affectionately and places one hand next to Andrew's head, supporting himself as he leans down and steals a kiss from Andrew's sulky pout. "I will never, _ever_ , push you to be undressed with me or do anything you don't feel like, but I don't want you to feel shy because of your appearance, okay? I know that whatever you look like, I won't think any less of you. Knowing what you've gone through, if anything, I'd be honored if you feel brave enough to show me."

_~Honey, no te preocupes~_

_~You're pouring out your heart, but it's all good~_

Fuck this man and his way with words. Andrew exhales heavily through his nose, suddenly noticing the music when Sean Caskey's voice fittingly fills the room.

_~Don't think, just feel~_

_~Yeah, it's real~_

He can't tell if this is the universe working in his favor, or against him. He's spent a lot of effort hiding behind long sleeves and pants, blaming the choices of clothes on always feeling cold, even under the scorching summer sun. No one really gave it much thought other than thinking he's a bit weird, except for his sister who sports the same condition but to a far lesser extent, but she couldn't help change his mind. He worked out fully clothed, slept fully clothed, never sunbathed, never went swimming. He doesn't even own t-shirts or shorts because of the constant fear that someone will make fun of a part of him that he can't change, a part that happens to be the most visible thing on him. But now, here he is, in Reyes' arms, the safest place in the galaxy, where he's given the chance to tackle this whole mess. And is scary.

_~Cielo, no pienses a futuro~_

_~I know you've got a soul and it hurts too~_

Great. Now, all he needs now is an ouija board so that the planchette can freely move across the letters to spell out 'STOP BEING A WHINY DICK' and if he asks for a sigh out loud, he's sure the lights will start flickering, and pieces of furniture will stack themselves to a tower. He's seen horror movies, he knows how this goes.

_~Don't think, just feel~_

_~Yeah, just feel~_

"... Fine."

"Fine, what?"

"Fine as in 'you can have a peek, but I'll warp you inside-out if you laugh'," Andrew relents, and it feels awful. He doesn't want to dislike himself or be afraid of what others might think, and he wants to trust Rey, but it's so fucking hard.

Reyes' face cracks up in a bright smile, and he cups Andrew's cheek as he presses a warm, long kiss to his lips. "Are you sure?"

_~Ooh, don't be so nervous, you'll be fine~_

"No," he mumbles. "I'm... Scared."

"Mi cielito, you don't have to, but if you do, the second you want me to stop, I will, I swear it on my life. I... Get that this must be uncomfortable for you, but I _know_ that I will love whatever you look like," Reyes whispers, and perhaps it's that particular word that lights a tiny spark of confidence in Andrew's chest, that makes his head move up and down. He receives another kiss before Reyes moves away and sits back on his knees. "Do you, um, want to lift your shirt?"

"... You do it."

"Alright, just... Tell me if you don't want to continue, okay?"

Andrew nods and hides his face in the crook of his arm. He can't bear watching Reyes' face, certain he'll be disgusted at the sight, and clenches his fists when he feels his shirt getting eased up. Shit, what if he laughs? Will he tell others? Will Andrew be met by snickers and whispers the next time he comes to Kadara?

Frozen solid, he's of no help when Reyes eases it further to reveal his entire stomach. Instead, he holds his breath as he waits for the inevitable reaction.

_"Ew, is that contagious?"_

_"Is it some kind of disease?"_

_"What's wrong with you"?_

"... Wow."

The sound of Reyes' voice is enough to make Andrew jerk, and he forces himself to peek over the edge of his elbow. He expects to see Reyes either look away or stare in horror, but he isn't doing any of that. He's gawking; lips parted, eyes blown wide open, eyebrows blending in with his hairline, chest expanding, coming to a stop, then slowly falling.

After thoroughly wetting his lips, the smuggler manages to tear his eyes away and catches Andrew's gaze. He looks upset, and Andrew's suddenly afraid of what that means.

"This is outrageous."

Oh, boy, here it comes, get ready for the blow -

"How dare you hide this beautiful body from me?"

"I can't help that - ..." Andrew's defenses deactivate once he hears what Reyes said, and he stares at the man. "... I'm sorry, _what?_ "

"Have you ever looked at yourself in a mirror? Andrew, you are _stunning_. What is all this talk about you looking disgusting?"

It's Andrew's turn to be speechless, and he continues to stare at Reyes, who looks down at his abdomen again. "I - it is perfect. What is it that I'm supposed to be put off by? Can I -" he peers up, amazed. " - Can I _touch_?"

Andrew still hasn't caught up to what the hell is going on and knits his eyebrows together, then shrugs awkwardly. "I, uh, guess...?"

Slowly, Reyes lowers his hands onto Andrew's bulky abs and sucks in a shaky breath, followed by a gentle 'oh' when he firmly presses his palms onto the warm, speckled skin. The muscles tense up in response, and Reyes sucks his lower lip in between his teeth. "How can anyone say anything negative about this?"

Only then does Andrew dare remove his arm and meet the horror that is his stomach, with light and dark brown spots strewn all over it. Reyes' sunkissed hands are a stark contrast to his pasty complexion, making his heart drop further. "Because it's awf -"

"No," Reyes interrupts, eyes hard. "It is _not_ , Andrew, you look amazing, like, _Dios_ , I've tried to imagine what you're hiding underneath your clothes, and I figured that you're good looking, but _this_ ," he gently curls his fingers around the protruding abs. "Is a thousand times hotter than what I made up."

The comment chips a shard off of the anxiety boulder resting inside Andrew's guts. "... Really? You're not, uh... Afraid to get tainted?"

"Tainted? Mi Cielito, there is **nothing** foul about your freckles, if anything, they only add to how incredibly gorgeous you are," Reyes tells him and runs his fingertips along the solid bumps of muscles. "You are so handsome, and hot, and _how often to you work out_? How can you find the time to do anything outside the gym when you look like this?"

Andrew blinks and gives an effort to get in proper contact with his brain. "I usually work out during the nights, since I can't sleep anyway, and no one is up, so I get all the equipment for myself," he explains, not sure why Reyes seems so excited when there's nothing special about the way he looks. "I'll just get at it until I'm tired, so... Anything between one and three-four hours a few nights a week?"

"Amazing," Reyes breathes and proceeds to move his hands across Andrew's stomach to his sides, slotting them into the slight dip of his waist that seems to have been molded just for him. It's around there that the smuggler comes back to himself, and he glances up at Andrew with that usual softness. "Is this okay?"

With all the patience in the world, he waits for Andrew to struggle for words that describe how he feels. Because on one side, he hates it. He doesn't want Reyes to look at him, to ruin whatever pretty image the man's made up about his looks. On the other side, it's surprisingly... Relieving? Like he's been climbing a mountain for years and years and finally makes it up through the clouds, seeing that there is an end.

"I don't know?" the answers honestly, still feeling uneasy, and lowers his gaze to his stomach. "It's... Odd. And uncomfortable, but I don't want to throw up, so I guess that's... Good?"

Reyes smiles a little and nods. "I suppose that so. Just tell me if you've had enough." He runs his hands up Andrew's flanks, squeezes and continues to explore old shoot wounds, stretch marks, miscellaneous scars from battles and stupid shenanigans from his childhood, flicks his gaze to Andrew's face now and again to make sure he isn't freaking out, which he sort of is. Andrew hasn't allowed anyone to look at him like this in a long time and it feels just as amazing as it turns his stomach, and not because of all the pizza. He waits for Reyes to stop pretending to be okay with how he looks, that he'll start laughing any time now or back off and ask him to leave. For some reason, the smuggler doesn't.

What he does though, is easing his hands further underneath the white shirt, fingertips touching firm pecks, watching Andrew with wondering eyes. Andrew, in response, forgets how to breathe and stares back. "You can say 'no' if this is enough."

Andrew swallows. "Will you... Be disappointed if I do?"

"Weather I'd be or not shouldn't make a difference, but no, of course not."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"... Then no," Andrew squeaks, and he still feels awful, but Reyes smiles and leans down to ease his troubled mind with kisses.

"Thank you for being so brave with me," the Charlatan whispers against his lips. "And for trusting me."

Andrew doesn't know how to reply to that, because he doesn't feel brave, but he doesn't have to say anything as Reyes keeps peppering his face with feathery soft kisses, one arm curling underneath his neck for support and the other around the smalls of his back. Andrew can't help the shockwave of tingles that ripples through him when Reyes' stomach presses against his own, skin against skin, and that fire somehow sparks back to life when hot lips breathe even hotter air down his neck. "You, and your skin, are beautiful," he hears and dares smile a little when another chunk of the boulder crumbles.

He stays the night. Except for his socks, he remains fully clothed, but Reyes doesn't seem to care. The smuggler still wraps an arm around him and gets permission to rest his hand against Andrew's stomach underneath his shirt, and Andrew loves it. It is just as perfect as he imagined, curling up to that strong body as the little spoon, feeling warm air splay over his neck. It's the first time he appreciates his insomnia as he can spend a few extra hours listening to Reyes' slow breaths and register the twitches, how his throat chokes up now and again, and how he gasps for it to clear, then returns to stillness.

So, maybe it isn't impossible after all. Maybe, just maybe, there's a chance for Andrew to feel a little better about himself and be a little more comfortable around others. One night won't fix a whole life's worth of issues, but at least now he's got a starting point, which is a comforting thought that lulls him off to sleep. He also learns that, apparently, Reyes isn't the one loaded with deadly sleep-farts.

But Andrew's certain that's all lies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs mentioned in this chapter;
> 
> Dansu - Don't you give up  
> Last Dinosaurs - Flying


	2. But there’s something that I really want to know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's smut and cuddles y'all.

"Hey, uh, can I ask you something?"

It's probably the unnatural shakiness in Andrew's voice that causes Vetra to swirl her chair all the way around to face the Pathfinder where he's covering by the door inside the armory. "Always. What's up?"

"Do you, um... Uh..." He pauses and rubs his palm across his chest, wrinkling the 'Think like a Proton' print on his shirt to try and collect his spasming nerves. "Do you think my, um... Skin is weird?"

"...What?"

Andrew had spent the three remaining nights of the Kadara stay at Reyes' place before Eos contacted the Tempest asking for help with something their scientific director is working on, as well as dealing with a bunch of crazy people trying to gain control over Remnants because people come up with all sorts of ideas.

Each night the two slept with legs and sheets entangled, drifting apart and joining back together, and Andrew got the luxury of experience waking up next to someone and choke on their rotten morning breath. He even brought his usual nightwear to sleep in something a bit thinner in order to not melt away during the night and displayed on a runway-walk through the room, hips swaying in his imaginary heels, and he couldn't for the love of god figure out why Reyes started laughing.

Like, what is there not to be awed by as a man struts past you wearing a pair of turquoise pajama bottoms with dinosaurs? Come on.

After the pizza evening, that Andrew showed pictures of and, yes, Liam did indeed get mildly upset, Reyes seemed to have made it his life's mission to help Andrew feel more comfortable about himself. Much of the time was spent with Reyes complimenting Andrew on his body, his freckles, his courage to talk about it, and at one point, urged him to talk about it with others as well to learn that no one cares about his skin. Andrew thought the suggestion was pushing it way too far, like, he didn't even look at himself in the mirror, and now he was supposed to ask what others thought about him? Hell no.

Then again, it was Rey, and he's got this way with words that somehow shoot straight past Andrew's bullshit-filter and infects his brain, causing him to actually think it over. So, he did, and now, he's standing in front of a puzzled Turian who's seemingly trying to sort out if she heard him correctly.

"If your skin is weird?" She repeats and scratches her cheek with a sharp talon. "Do you mean human skin or yours specifically?"

"I, uh, mean mine."

Vetra studies him with a frown, or Andrew assumes that's what that expression is. "No, I can't say I do." She says at last, and Andrew sucks his lips between his teeth and nods slightly.

"Right," he mumbles and runs a hand through his hair. "Right, um, thanks."

As he's about to turn and leave, Vetra speaks again. "Why do you ask?"

"... It's kind of silly," he says as he turns back around and folds his arms to create a sense of security.

"Is it about your freckles?"

"It - uh - well..."

When Andrew hesitates, Vetra's eyes narrow, and she leans back in the chair. "Did Vidal say something stupid about you? Because, if he did, I swear I'll shoot his di - "

"No, no, it's nothing like that," he interrupts. "It's the opposite, really, I mean, I guess. He, uh... Though it would be a good idea if I - um." He moves his gaze to the floor and rests his back against the cold wall. God, this feels so stupid. "If I... Talk to you guys about it, since I'm, um..."

"Super uncomfortable about it?"

Andrew jerks his head back up and blinks as he meets Vetra's gaze. "... What?"

"Come on, Andrew, you wore full sleeves on Elaaden," she reminds him. "And when the AC system broke down, when everyone else was melting away in shorts, you were in a _hoodie_. You didn't think that anyone would find _that_ a bit weird?"

"I - uh... Well, yeah, I suppose I figured that, but I just..." He shrugs at the loss for words and averts his eyes.

"Andrew, look," Vetra sighs as she gets up from her chair, back cracking as she stretches her long limbs. "I don't care what your skin looks like, okay? Apparently, you don't like it, I get it, but I couldn't care less. I don't think anyone of us does. And why would it matter anyway?"

"... How much time do you have?"

"For you? As much as you need."

So, Andrew tells her. About the bullying, the fear, how he hides, how much control the anxiety has over him. He tells her because he knows her; Vetra is one of the people he holds dear on this ship. If there's anyone he'd open up to, it's her. He knows she won't laugh, and she doesn't, not once during the hour they talk about it.

"Alright, yeah, I get that it can't have been easy," Vetra concludes and shifts her feet, moves one on top of another on the desk. "But, I mean, you can't do anything about it, right? So, you gotta learn how to deal with it sooner or later."

"I know," Andrew groans and rolls the screw-nut he's been playing with between his fingers. "It's just so... Damn difficult. Like, even with Rey, whenever he's looking, I'm seconds away to freak out and run away, and he's only been super positive all this time."

They sit in silence for a minute, Andrew mindlessly chewing on his lip until Vetra speaks. "Want help with that?"

"Help with what?"

"Getting comfortable. If you want. You can always hang around here and, I don't know, wear a t-shirt or something."

"... J - just like that?" Andrew manages once he finds his voice, staring at his friend.

"Uh-huh, yeah, why not? It's just a bunch of dots, and, honestly, I couldn't care less if you were stripey. Sure, _that_ might've been a bit odd but, I don't care." She shrugs and flashes an amused smirk at Andrew's gawking face. "What, did you want me to freak out or something?"

"I - uh, no, I didn't, you know, expect you to, just... Be so casual about it."

"Alright, Andrew, look," she sighs and moves her feet down from the table to face the puzzled Pathfinder. "You think people got time to care about what you look like? I know I don't. Unless you're bleeding all over, I've got more important things on my mind. So, how about you stop imagining that we all don't have better stuff to do than have opinions about what you look like?"

Andrew stares at the Turian for a good couple of seconds while he turns the harsh words around in his mind. He hadn't thought about that. "I didn't think about that."

"I figured. Disliking something about yourself makes you think everyone's looking at it, right? Well, there you have it. Do with it as you like."

-

During the two months it takes before the Tempest returns to Kadara, Andrew gathers enough courage to start showing off some of his arms when he mingles with Vetra. The first week he rolls up his sleeve a little bit, and she doesn't even bat an eye. Same when he rolls them up further, displaying his pasty pale forearms. Nothing. He sits with her doing his reports, and each time he looks up to see that she isn't staring or snickering or looking disgusted, another few crumbs or the anxiety-bolder falls off.

Once he's comfortable with Vetra, he talks to Gil, who's become one of Andrew's best friends and the only one who's ever been supportive over his excellent taste for clothes. He talks with him like he did with Vetra, just as anxious and scared, only to find out that Gil doesn't care either. "I figured you look like that all over, and why would I mind that?" he said, which was as anti-climactic as it was relieving, same as with Vetra.

So, when he returns to Kadara, it's with a new sense of confidence, and he can't wait to show Reyes what he's learned.

-

It's late evening on the first day the Tempest landed on Kadara Port after the many weeks away, and after spending a good three hours talking with Reyes about what's been going on, they've ended up on the couch, comfortably unwinding in each other's company.

Andrew is half sitting in the corner of the L-shaped furniture, one leg stretched out on the couch, the other foot on the floor. Reyes is squeezed in between the backrest and Andrew's broad body, legs entwined, one hand resting onto the Pathfinder's stomach underneath his shirt, head resting on his shoulder. They are watching some ridiculous action movie, which is a pleasant contrast to all the seriousness that's been going on with the Archon.

"Are you sure that this isn't a comedy?" Reyes inquires when the protagonist outruns a crashing spaceship, fingertips slowly moving back and forth across the scarred skin. Andrew sighs at the pleasant sensation.

"The description didn't mention any comedy," he replies and absentmindedly twists a few strands of Reyes' hair between his fingers, the other hand reaching to grab another fistful of chips. "Though I don't get why they gave the crew suits with jump-jets when they never use it."

"Mh, my point exactly."

They watch the movie in comfortable silence, except for the crunching of snacks and snickering at absurd shooting scenes, all up until the protagonist and his love interest falls in bed together in a mess of sheets, the man humping at the woman's thigh rather than where he's supposed to put that thing, her crying for help - oh, no, that's the moaning.

Whether it's because of the dreadful acting or the supposedly 'romantic' scene, Andrew notices Reyes' fingers tracing up along his stomach, arm twisting a bit underneath his shirt to better reach, takes his time to rub an open palm across his chest, sending electric sparks down Andrew's body. _Oh._

The hand then travels back down all the way to the waistline of his sweatpants, crosses over to the soft fabric, and continues down his leg. On the way back up, long fingers grace the inside of his thigh, lightly sweeps up past his groin, back to his stomach. The Charlatan grins against his shoulder when he shudders.

"Is the movie that boring?" Andrew asks, voice cracking when Reyes' hand descends again.

"No, you're simply that irresistible," he whispers and leans closer to press a kiss against the side of Andrew's neck, whose breath hitches. "And I'd rather enjoy a romantic moment with you than watching someone else's."

"You're calling **that** romantic?"

"Well, maybe romantic is stretching it a bit," he admits and shifts around enough to move the arm he's lying on so that he can run a free hand up the back of Andrew's head, entangling his fingers with his blond hair. "But I get what mood they are aiming for."

Andrew doesn't say anything to that, instead, he's melting into Reyes' touch, into the hot lips re-exploring his neck, into the hand roaming what length it can reach down his leg and back up, fingers inching closer to the inside of his thigh. Hell, he missed this just as much as he missed being all cozied up on the couch. Rey chuckles quietly when Andrew's legs fall a bit further apart as if his knees weren't spread far enough already. He boldly runs his palm up the Pathfinder's groin in the exchange for a shaky moan.

"Is this alright?"

"Yeah," Andrew exhales, and it does feel alright. It feels better than alright. He doesn't feel the urge to hide, only _other_ urges. Maybe those hours spent walking around in Gil's t-shirt had done more wonders to his self-esteem than he thought at the time. His mind quickly blanks out when Rey squeezes one of his pecs underneath his shirt.

"This as well?"

"Mh." He nods and wets his lips. The flames flickering underneath his skin makes him a bit more courageous. "I, uh... I want to take it off."

Reyes' hand comes to a full stop and a few seconds of silence follows. "You sure?"

"I - yeah, I think so. I, um, I want to try."

"... Alright, if that feels okay with you."

It does, and Reyes moves away to give Andrew enough space. Fine, it's a bit daunting, but at the same time, it kind of makes sense to take each 'big' step with Rey as he knows now, for sure, that he won't laugh. Just like he knows with Vetra and Gil. But he doesn't want to be naked with any of them.

So, after collecting some extra confidence with a deep breath, Andrew grabs the hem of his shirt and slowly peels it off. He takes way too much time turning it back from being inside-out and even folds it, realizing he's avoiding Rey's reaction, and then puts the piece of clothing on the table. 'God, what if it's too much? What if I've scared him off now?'

He hasn't. Quite the opposite, because the smuggler is staring at him like he's just uncovered the greatest treasure of the century, kind of like when Andrew first let him take a look at his abs.

"Oh, my, mi Cielito," Reyes breathes, eyes glued to the Pathfinder's broad chest, then travels up to his shoulders, down his big biceps, and he leans back a little to take in the full view. "If I was to decide, I'd refuse you to wear clothes whenever you're here."

Andrew chuckles nervously and rubs his palm across his chest, eyes falling onto the projector screen where some epic battle takes place. "Don't exaggerate," he murmurs, ears burning red.

"I am not," Rey assures, then moves to sit on his knees between Andrew's legs, urging him to move further in on the couch. He does, and the second he's settled, Reyes climbs down on top of him and steals a kiss. "I am _certainly_ not."

He doesn't give Andrew the chance to argue, instead buries his tongue inside his mouth, swallowing whatever protest he had in store. It works, as Andrew's brain quickly fogs up, and the taste of Reyes is the only thing that matters.

-

Waking up the next morning, Andrew yawns and stretches as minimally as he can to not disturb the smuggler sleeping curled up against his back, swallowing a groan when his hip pops. He doesn't bother to open his eyes since he isn't leaving the bed, especially not while lying snuggled up against Rey's chest. 

As his brain works up the pace to process, well, anything, a pang of guilt strikes his stomach. Everything had been perfect last night, the movie long forgotten when Rey started exploring Andrew's body with his mouth, hands rubbing and squeezing his chest, tongue dancing across his stomach, all the way down to his hips, where Andrew's anxiety decided to slam the alarm button and ruin the moment. Rey had been amazing, as always, hushing his claims of self-hate and proceeded to wrap him up in his arms, promising that everything was alright, that he didn't ruin anything.

Still, he felt awful, frustrated at his head, but the thought slips away when Rey smacks his lips against his neck, arm tightening around his stomach.

He never put his shirt back on when they went to sleep and feeling warm skin pressed against his own like this is just... Hell, he couldn't explain it. It's amazing, and perfect, and everything he wants. Well, not _everything_. Whatever Reyes is dreaming about is pleasant enough to poke Andrew in the back, and at his interest.

This isn't the first time he's acknowledging Reyes' morning wood, but maybe because they abruptly ended last night on a frustrating note, at least for Andrew, it kicks off an array of ideas. Praying that Rey won't notice, he arches his back enough to press his ass against the man's groin, biting down a groan as it only sets off a series of emotions that stirs his body to life. And _someone_ , apparently.

"Well, well, good morning to you too," Rey mumbles hoarsely, smirking against his warm skin. His hand slides down along Andrew's hip, the outside of his thigh, and then back up again. "Did you have a good sleep?"

"Yeah," Andrew exhales, embarrassment coloring his cheeks, and chokes on a breath when Rey angles his hips. "J - just fine."

"Good to hear."

"Ah, - a - and you?"

"Oh, I had a lovely sleep, thank you," Reyes replies and runs his hand down the front of Andrew's thigh, which is enough to encourage the Pathfinder to spread his legs a little, which in return draws a chuckle from Rey's lips. "Though, being awake with you is far more exciting." As he speaks, his hand comes down the inside of Andrew's thigh. "Is this okay?"

Andrew nods as blood slowly drains from his head down south, then wets his lips. "Yeah, I - I like that."

They lie like that for a while, Reyes continuing to make Andrew stupid by grinding against him while coming to life, pressing soft kisses to his neck and shoulder, whispering sweet, silly things about how beautiful and amazing he is. Andrew realizes that he's been missing out on several of these magical mornings with each time he declined staying over.

"R - Rey," Andrew manages after what feels like an eternity but actually isn't more than six minutes. "I - ... I want more."

The hand stills against the inside of his leg and Reyes shift behind him. The smuggler gets up on the arm nestled underneath Andrew's neck and watches his flushed face, or how much of it that's visible in the dim light. Andrew peels his eyes open while turning his head enough to meet Reyes' bleary gaze. "Are you sure? If this is because of yesterday, you don't - "

"It's not. Err, not entirely, I - uh." He licks the corner of his mouth while trying to articulate. "I wanted yesterday as well, but, uh, you know. But, I want to now too, and if we, maybe, under the cover, it's, um... Easier?

"Andrew, I don't want you to push yourself for my sake. There's no need to stress anything - "

"I'm not, I promise, I... I want to, like, _a lot_."

A few seconds pass where Reyes looks at him, searches his glossy eyes, then leans down to kiss his parted lips. Andrew is too gone to even care about Rey's god-awful morning breath and cranes his neck to get more of the kiss, shifting over to his back to get a hand out from under the pillow and onto Reyes' neck. "The second you want me to stop - "

"Yes, yes."

With permission, Rey's hand slides down Andrew's naked stomach, down between his legs, and the Pathfinder chokes on a gasp when those strong fingers squeeze around him through the soft fabric of his pajama pants.

" _Shit,_ " he rasps and entangles his fingers into Rey's hair, hips bucking. It's such a simple touch, really, but it's enough to short-cut Andrew's brain, and he can feel Reyes smile against his lips.

"Nice?" the smuggler whispers and Andrew snorts a chortle, exhaling a moan when the pressure increases. "Good. You just relax, and I'll take care of you, okay?"

Andrew can't do more than nod while clinging on to Rey's hair and neck, eyelids fluttering close as he allows himself to enjoy this moment, praying that his head keeps quiet.

By the time Reyes has worked his hand in underneath the two layers of clothing, Andrew is panting, wetness leaking onto his flaming hot skin, soaking his underwear. The smuggler's hand feels impossibly warm, almost scorching, as it gently caresses his throbbing erection.

"Andrew," Rey whispers, breath splaying across the Pathfinder's stretched neck, pausing to press another kiss below his ear, the touch impossibly gentle. "Would you mind taking your clothes off?"

It takes a moment for Andrew to comprehend the words, his brain nothing but a soggy mess, and he swallows. "S - sure." With the cover functioning as protection from Reyes' eyes, along with the dim light, it doesn't feel too bad wriggling out of his thin pants and sticky boxers - it's actually exciting. It's been such a long time since he was last naked with another person, and Rey just makes everything feel so right, and he's as horny as a hormonal teen with a porn magazine, so his brain isn't putting up half as much resistance as usual.

Once his clothes have been kicked off the bed, Rey's hand is on him again, and Andrew slings a leg over the smuggler's thighs underneath the cover, the other one pulling up a bit, providing all the space needed for whatever he'll be subjected to. And Rey didn't lie when I said he'd take care of him.

His smooth hand works up and down Andrew in a painfully slow motion, a finger coming up to rub circles across the wet, swollen head, smearing salty fluids across it, and Andrew can't keep his jaw closed. He's sucking in air in short bursts, eyes rolled into the back of his head, body trembling like a minor earthquake. Rey, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be in any rush whatsoever. His hand then travel south, cupping and massaging Andrew's rock-hard balls, tearing strangled moans from his throat.

"Okay?" the smuggler asks against his ear, his tongue coming out to taste the shell, nibbles at the lobe, and Andrew melts into the bed, nodding.

"Yes," he manages quietly and digs his fingers into Rey's scalp when the man squeezes him a bit harder, not enough to hurt, the other hand about to tear the pillow into shreds.

"Can I go further?"

Again, Andrew nods as he isn't capable of much more, and whines when the pressure disappears between his legs. It does give him a chance to breathe, and he does his best to do so, eyebrows twitching when he feels Rey's fingertip dip into the wet mess on his stomach, then curving when his hand travels down again, followed by a surprised yelp when his sticky finger start rubbing against his sensitive rim.

" _Oh-you-are- **nasty**_ ," Andrew gasps, loving it, head lolling to the side when the smuggler nips at his collarbone. Reyes grins against his skin, even more so when Andrew's hips start twitching. 

"There is a bottle of lube in the drawer," he informs, as if Andrew would somehow be able to move, let alone use his body for anything useful, and chuckles when it takes a full ten seconds for the Pathfinder to even open his eyes.

".... 'Right," he rasps, clearing his throat, arm stretching out to fumble with the handle to the drawer next to the bed and almost yanks the entire thing out due to zero patience. Once open, he feels around for anything bottle-like, accidentally knocking a metal-sounding object over the edge and onto the floor, then retracts his arm with what he hopes is the correct thing in his hand.

Reyes shifts while he's at it, propping himself up on an elbow, and takes the bottle, rewarding Andrew with a warm kiss as he does. "Thank you." He pauses, smiling as he meets Andrew's eyes and it's impossible not to drown in that dark, longing gaze. "Still alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I - it's good, promise," Andrew replies shakily, chuckling breathlessly at the haze. Content with his answer, Rey pops the bottle open and squeezes a very generous amount of lube into his palm before closing it again. 'That's a lot,' Andrew notes somewhere in the back of his head and yelps when a couple of drops spills onto his stomach when Rey moves his hand back down underneath the cover, a grin on his lips as he watches Andrew's face when he tilts his hand to the side, dumping the rest of the cold liquid onto the Pathfinder's aching erection, spilling over down his groin. 

"G - God!" Andrew yelps, the sharp contrast in temperature shooting tingles up his spine. "You fucking nuisan - _oh!_ " 

The discomfort immediately dissipates when Rey wraps his fingers around him, warming the lube as he starts stroking him again, the slippery sensation blanking out Andrew's head.

"I didn't quite catch that," Rey teases as his hand slides down, coats Andrew's balls as he carefully kneads them before his hand travel further.

"Asshole," Andrew mumbles, his hand blindly traveling up Rey's shoulders and neck until he can card his fingers through his hair, snatching a fistful when a finger starts prodding and teasing, and Andrew whines, legs trembling. " _Please_ ," he squeaks, his free hand reaching behind his head to grab one of the metallic slates on the headboard, knuckles whitening around it when the finger breaches him.

It's not a new sensation, just because Andrew doesn't have sex with others doesn't mean he isn't having it with himself, but it's a whole other thing when someone else is in control. "Good?" he hears Rey ask somewhere above him. Unable to answer properly, he pushes his heel into the bed to motivate Rey to give him more. It works a charm.

While peppering Andrew's neck, face, and shoulder with kisses and nibbles, Reyes slowly works the finger, knuckle by knuckle, all the way inside, and Andrew struggles to keep still. It shouldn't be rushed, but damn if he hasn't been thinking about this since the first time Reyes showed him a hint of interest.

One finger becomes two, then three, and by the time when Rey starts shifting beside him, Andrew is a shaky, incohesive, helpless fucking mess of a person who can't make out what planet he's currently on. He's already covered in a layer of sweat as the cover increases the temperature by a thousand degrees, but that's the least of his problems. He doesn't have any problems at all right now.

"Cariño, I - would it be alright for you if I -"

" _Yes!_ " Andrew rasps, eyes fluttering open and he struggles to focus his gaze on the blurry outlines of the smuggler. " _Please!_ "

A laugh escapes Rey's lips before they come down to gift him a soft kiss, one the Pathfinder immediately deepens by forcing his tongue into the man's mouth, which only amuses him further.

"There is - Andrew, hold - mh - hold on a second," Rey struggles when Andrew clings onto him, refusing to let go, all while trying to motion to the man to get closer, preferably between his legs, right now, because he doesn't want to wait any longer. So, reluctantly, the Pathfinder tears himself from Rey's mouth, inhaling sharply. "I have protection in the draw -"

"I'm clean," Andrew blurts, eyes wide of frantic, clawing need flicking across Rey's face, who's head jerks at his sudden exclaim. "I promise, I don't have - _SAM!_ SAM, tell him!"

_"Tell Mr. Vidal what, Pathf - "_

"Just fucking tell - tell him I'm not - I'm not contagious!" 

_"That requires me to scan - "_

"Well, fucking **scan then!** " 

_"Scanning."_

"God, _hurry up!_ " Andrew whines, looking wounded when Reyes laughs at his impatience. Not in a mocking way, it's one of those light, bubbly laughs Andrew is rewarded with whenever Rey thinks he's being cute, so it doesn't hurt his ego that much.

_"I detect no traces of an infection in -"_

"Thanks!" Andrew interrupts, panting still, and yanks Reyes closer, crashing their lips together before the man gets a chance to speak. "Please, Rey, _please_ \- "

"SAM," Rey manages between the forceful kisses, sounding far more collected than Andrew by miles. "Would you please - oh - scan me as well?"

_"As you wish, Mr. Vidal. Scanning now."_

"Well, aren't you a gentleman," Andrew murmurs against his lips, then gasps for air when Rey wiggles his fingers, reminds him of their presence, a low growl vibrating in his chest. "SAM, _hurry the **fuck** up_."

_"Mr. Vidal, there are no traces of an inf -"_

"Thanks, SAM, bye!"

With that, Andrew pulls at Rey again, finally convincing him to take place between his knees, swearing when he notices that he's still dressed on his lower body. Though, when the man gingerly removes his fingers to fix that problem, Andrew still lets out a petulant whine at the sudden emptiness.

"Díos, Andrew, make up your mind, will you?"

"I refuse," he breathes, loves the laughs on Rey's lips as they continue to kiss while the smuggler awkwardly shimmies out of his underwear, apologizing as he kicks Andrew's shin while trying to push them out from under the cover. Andrew barely notices; he's too busy exploring Reyes' torso with eager hands, pawing at his chest, absorbed in the dizzying delight that is his body. It's not until Rey grabs him by the shoulder and motions him to lay down flat that he realizes the smuggler is trying to get his attention.

"Y - yeah, what?" 

"I know that you are eager, and I want nothing other than to indulge in this moment with you," Rey tells him, his soft eyes hovering above Andrew's face, the hand not supporting his weight, and not covered in lube, coming up to fondly stroke his cheek. "But I want to be certain that this is what you want, truly, and not simply because you are needy."

The subject forces Andrew to activate his brain, or at least a part of it, and he breathes hard while struggling to connect, which isn't any easier as he's feeling Rey's erection pressed against his groin. Still, he makes the effort, soothed by the calm in Rey's gaze, and manages to push his lust to the side for a few seconds.

"I really, really-really-really, want this," he answers, licking his lips and swallowing between his breaths, nodding to emphasize. "I want this, I want _you_ , I - fuck, Rey, I've wanted this since - since I don't know, always? I've just been... Scared." He drags both hands up Reyes' shoulders and up his neck, fingers sliding up to the back of his head to guide his head down until their foreheads meet. "Being here, with you, it's just... Do you have any idea how many times I've jerked off imagining this?"

"My _God_ , Andrew!" Rey guffaws a short laugh, lifting his head to shake it without risking hurting Andrew's face, giving the Pathfinder an incredulous look. "You are insufferable."

"Just the way you like me," Andrew grins, his smile widening when Rey rolls his eyes. "I mean it, though, like, really, I want this. I want _you_."

Reyes watches him for a few seconds, searches his face, then leans back down to press a long, warm kiss onto his lips. "Promise to let me know if anything is uncomfortable?"

"I promise - _hah_."

The word is barely out before Rey rolls his hips, pressing down at and re-awakening Andrew's lust, and Andrew immediately returns the movement, smirking when he encourages a groan to vibrate in Reyes' throat. "Now," Andrew sighs. "How about you stop being such a damn tease?"

"Gladly," Rey whispers against his ear and opens his mouth to gently bite into the sensitive skin on his neck, making Andrew inhale sharply. Then, after what feels like a lifetime, Rey pulls back enough to lean onto one elbow while rummaging his hand around the bed for the bottle of lube. As he's about to pour more into his hand, Andrew snatches it from him, grinning at the surprised look on Rey's face when a wave of blue light pulls the bottle from his grip. 

"Too slow." 

Before Rey gets a chance to protest, Andrew squeezes lube into his hand, then closes the bottle and discards it somewhere beside him. He reaches between them to hunt down Rey's pride, receiving a brain-melting moan in return as he wraps his fingers around it.

Listening to Rey's sweet sounds is more than enough to set Andrew's veins aflame, and he doesn't give the man half as much attention as he deserves before he starts tugging at his hips, desperate to feel him properly, all while pulling his knees up to give more room, and the smuggler obliges.

Rey takes over and starts pushing in, forces Andrew's body to widen around him, and Andrew lets out a strangled moan. It stings, which comes to no surprise, and he meets Rey's attentive gaze, figuring the smuggler won't relax until he's certain the Pathfinder is doing alright. Which is sweet, but Andrew wants the man to enjoy himself as well.

So, to help with that, he buries one hand in Rey's hair and hides his face in the crook of his neck, then sucks his sunkissed skin between his lips.

" _Mierda_ ," Rey hisses, breath hitching when Andrew moves his mouth and sucks another mark onto his neck, feels a hand grip his hip, fingers digging into the bone. "Andrew - " 

Refusing to stop, Andrew fists a handful of Reyes' hair, motions his head to the side, makes another mark, then laps his tongue across it, grinning despite the discomfort at the shudder rippling through the smuggler's body. "I - I don't want to hurt you, cariño, please don't -"

"I'm not made of glass. I'll tell you if it hurts."

It appears to be enough, as Reyes starts to slowly, carefully, work himself all the way inside Andrew's hot body, the two of them a panting, tangled mess once he bottoms out. 

"Good?" Rey whispers, his breaths coming out in short gasps, and the Pathfinder nods, swallowing an excess of saliva. 

"Y - yeah, yeah, good."

"Can - can I - "

" _Yes._ "

Reyes laughs breathlessly, then swallows and pushes himself up, one elbow on each side of Andrew's face, locking their hooded eyes together before he moves. Andrew's jaw unhinges when Rey gingerly eases out, then pushes back in, struggling to keep his eyes from rolling back into his head. "Fuck - "

The pace is slow, Rey rocking back and forth with languid movements, allowing Andrew to get used to the intrusion, breathe through the stinging discomfort until it dissipates altogether. God, it's _so_ good. He lifts one leg to wrap around Rey's waist, shifting the angle enough for the smuggler to slide in a bit deeper, wrenching guttural moans out of both of them. He can feel Rey's muscles start trembling. 

"More," Andrew whines, lifting his other leg to hook his ankles together onto the sweaty skin of Rey's back.

"Hah. Insatiable," the smuggler growls, jaw clenching, the vibrations making Andrew's skin prickle. Seeing Reyes like this, where he's usually so collected, struggle to keep his composure, is the sexiest thing, and he'll make it his personal responsibility to get him to this point again.

Rey traces one hand down Andrew's flank until he can dig his fingers into the back of his thigh, lifts his hip to change the angle, then pushes back in with more force. It's enough to punch a yelp out of Andrew and he loops his arms around Rey's neck, clings on when the smuggler increases the pace, and sweet heavens, it's just what he needs. God, he wants it to go on forever. 

It won't, though. It'll end far too early for Andrew's liking because Reyes does things to his body that no one ever has, whispers the sweetest things, and spoils him rotten with that wet mouth of his, and that does _things_ to him. Pleasant _things_. 

"You okay?" Reyes' thick voice vibrates against Andrew's neck. He's slowed down a bit, hands roaming the Pathfinder's massive thighs, his stomach, and whatever parts he reaches of his chest, each touch scorching on Andrew's sticky skin.

"Be - better than okay," Andrew breathes, fingers coming up to Reyes' greasy hair, gently pulling and combing and oh God, that's the spot. "D - dammit, Rey, I - I can't - "

The smuggler chuckles and trails kisses up his neck, tongue darting out to taste the shell of his ear, and Andrew's brain melts. "Then don't," he whispers, a grin in his voice, and shifts the angle, and if Andrew was about to say anything, the searing hot pleasure curling up his spine does a quick job of blowing the thought out of his head.

Andrew tries to tell Reyes how much he enjoys it, how he's been craving this for so long but held back by fear, but he's wrecked; his limbs don't function properly, his tongue thick and useless in his mouth. And when Rey's hips start snapping forward, harder, more frantic, gracing the sensitive spot a few times before slamming into it head-on, Andrew cries unrestrained out into the dark room, unaware that he's clawing at the poor man's shoulders when the explosion of pleasure rips his brain into shreds. 

It's too much. Every nerve in his body is on fire, his legs cramping around Rey's waist, desperate that he keeps going. What little control remained leaves Andrew's body when a hand nestles in between their bodies and starts stroking him to their rhythm.

"Rey - _fuck_ \- don't s - stop!" Andrew pleads, nails digging into Rey's skin, trembling, every cell in his body screaming. SAM's voice echoes in the back of his head, the sound of a warning, but he's too far gone to comprehend, blood rushing in his ears, and when Rey tells him how beautiful he is while hammering the bundle of nerves, it sends him crashing over the edge. 

The entire room illuminates when Andrew's climax slams into him; waves of blue energy ripples across his body as his hips bucks, muscles tensing up before he arches off the bed with a strangled cry, Reyes' name pouring from his lips. Stars twinkle behind his eyelids as his body convulses, or maybe it's Rey still slamming into him, one or the other, but the world stills at some point, and Andrew goes limp.

Be it a minute or an eternity, he can't tell the difference of how much time passed before he returns to himself. There's a high-pitched ringing in his ears and a slight ache in his head.

_"Pathfinder,"_ SAM's voice echoes in his head. _"I must advise you to see Dr. T'Perro when you return to the Tempest, as your implant seems to -"_

"Shut up," Andrew grumbles, shaking his head when Reyes stirs. "Not you." Whatever the damage is, it can wait.

"Hm?"

Struggling to find his voice between his gasping breaths, Andrew swallows a few times, wincing at the dryness in his throat. "SAM's doing not-sexy-talk." 

_"Ryder, it is of outmost importance - "_

"Shush."

The AI goes quiet, thank God, and Andrew returns to enjoy the pleasant calm, as well as the sensation of having Reyes collapsed on his chest.

"Díos mio, cariño," Rey drawls. "You - ... God, that was... Wow."

"Yeah, s - something like that." Groaning, Andrew uses all his strength to lift his noodle-arms and wrap them around Rey's shoulders, shivering when the smuggler pecks a kiss to his neck. It's about then when he feels the sloppy mess between his legs, curving an eyebrow. "Oh."

"Hmm?"

"You, uh... "

"You didn't notice?"

"Err... No."

Rey exhales a laugh and nestles an arm in underneath Andrew's neck, who feels a bit awful, and holds him closer. "It's very much alright. You did seem... Well, occupied. You scared me a little, though. Are you okay?"

"God, yes," Andrew sighs, his thighs still twitching in the aftershock. He can deal with any technicalities later. "It's all good. Though I, uh, would've liked to, you know." He draws circles over Rey's sweaty back. "... Been here when you came."

"Oh, don't worry about that, darling, you can make it up to me later, if you wish."

"Damn right I will," Andrew grins. He unhooks his cramping legs from Rey's back and lets them slide off to the sides, wincing when the smuggler carefully retracts, then rolls over to his side to snuggle up against the man, ignoring the mess, or the fact that they are both soaked in sweat. Rey holds him, them both returning to reality in comfortable silence, Andrew listening to the Charlatan's heartbeat slowing to a normal rate below his ear. 

"... Hey, Rey?" 

"Mm?"

"I, uh... I need to ask you something."

"Anything."

Andrew chews on his lip for a moment, tries to summon courage. It takes long enough that Rey cranes his neck to look at him. Hesitantly, he glances up. "Are we, um... A thing?"

"A thing?" Rey cocks an eyebrow. "You mean a couple?"

"... Yeah?"

"Well, um." Andrew hears him swallow. "We haven't really talked about that, have we? I - ... I'm not sure if I, um, know how to do that properly. Relationships haven't been my strong suit, you know?"

Andrew frowns. "Haven't we already been doing the, uh... Couple-thing for a while now? Or are you expecting it to be something else?"

The smuggler inhales slowly, humming. "I don't know. Maybe it's the official title that's a bit, hm. Daunting."

"What, 'Smuggler King, boyfriend of the Human Pathfinder?'"

Rey snorts a laugh. "Yes, precisely." They remain silent for a moment, Andrew anxiously waiting for some sort of clear answer, when Rey sighs. "I think it's a bit daunting because, well, if we are a _thing_ , that's a _thing_ I might mess up in some way. And I... Well, I don't want to do that."

"I... Suppose I get that," Andrew hums, then wets his lips. "But, you know, I, um. I would like to try anyway. I might be the one to fuck it up, you know? Even if we're something, uh, 'official' or not."

"Hardly, but I see your point." Rey shifts underneath him until he's lying on his side, facing the Pathfinder, and lifts his hand to gently rub his naked shoulder. "Don't you think the Initiative will have opinions on us?"

"Rey, they have opinions on _everything_. And I don't care what they think. They probably know already, we haven't really been sneaking around, remember?"

"True. Still, putting a title on it will confirm it."

"Which is why I want us to." 

Rey blinks, eyebrows knitting together. "To stab a thorn in the side of the Initiative?"

"Pfth, no, I... You know." Andrew swallows and averts his gaze, a flush creeping up his neck. "I just like the idea that... To know that we really are a - ... A **thing**."

A moment passes before a smirk form on Reyes' lips. "You want to call me your boyfriend?"

"... _Yes_."

"Are you sure you didn't damage your implant just now? Because if you did, maybe -"

" **Rey!** "

The smuggler snickers and presses a couple of kisses onto Andrew's scalp. "I'm sorry, I'm just teasing you. But, well." He leans back enough to meet Andrew's gaze. "It _does_ have a nice ring to it."

"I don't want you to agree just because I want it."

"I wouldn't do that, cariño, and I think you know that already. I, hm, I might need you to be patient with me, though."

"Aren't I already?"

Rey chuckles and shrugs awkwardly. "I suppose you are." He reaches behind Andrew's back and pulls him a bit closer, sealing his lips in a soft kiss. "Alright, then, _boyfriend_ , let's give this thing a shot."

It takes a second for Andrew to comprehend, then his face cracks up in a bright smile as his heart flutters. It takes another second before he throws himself over the man, battles him onto his back in order to drown him in kisses. Boyfriend, huh? Yeah. Yeah, it does sound nice. Perfect, even.

_~Cielo, no pienses a futuro~_

_~I know you've got a soul and it hurts too~_

_~Don't think, just feel~_

_~Yeah, just feel~_


End file.
